


The Empty Hearse Revisited

by arlenejp



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Anger, F/M, Hitting, Kissing, M/M, Punching, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-01 05:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10915101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arlenejp/pseuds/arlenejp
Summary: This is an alternative to "The Empty Hearse" Landmark Hotel restaurant scene and the happenings after.





	The Empty Hearse Revisited

**Author's Note:**

> I give credit to Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan for the transcript of Season Three Episode one "The Empty Hearse"  
> Credit to http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/64080.html

EVENING. THE LANDMARK HOTEL, MARYLEBONE ROAD. Sherlock approaches the door to the restaurant, handing his Belstaff coat to a member of staff. 

Waiters open the doors for him, and he walks in.

He marches right up to John Watson and the woman who is sitting with him.

* * *

          "John Watson."

JOHN: (finally lifts his gaze to meet the man speaking)  
(His face drops. His entire body jolts, and he gapes with an expression of utter disbelief.)

(John turns his head towards Mary, then his eyes fill with tears, and he ducks his head momentarily before he stumbles clumsily to his feet.)

JOHN (in a whisper): "Two years."

(He shakes his head, dragging in another long breath and blowing it out again before starting to straighten up.)

* * *

JOHN (still in a tight whisper): "Two years."

(He moans and slumps down over his hands again. Sherlock has the decency to look awkward. John glances up at him momentarily.)

* * *

JOHN: "I thought ...

(He groans, unable to continue and gesturing helplessly. Mary stares at him in sympathy. John finally straightens and turns to Sherlock.)

* * *

JOHN: "I thought ... you were dead." (His face begins to fill with anger again.) "Hmm?"

(He breathes rapidly and shallowly.)

* * *

JOHN: "Now, you let me grieve, hmm? How could you do that?

(Sherlock looks down, biting his lip.)

* * *

(John draws in one more long breath, then hurls himself at Sherlock, grabbing his lapels and bundling him back across the floor until Sherlock loses his footing and they both fall to the carpet John on top of Sherlock and trying to throttle him. Mary and various waiters run to pull John off.)

* * *

The two of them are thrown out of the restaurant with Mary following behind. Standing at the curb, Sherlock does not know what to say or do. He keeps looking down at the sidewalk.

* * *

Mary holds on to John trying to grasp what has happened and looking with sympathy at John.

Pulling himself up like the soldier he is, he growls looking to Sherlock.

          "Let's take a cab and go someplace quiet."

John is shaking as Mary hails a cab.

* * *

They get ready to go in but Mary looks at John and realizes that she should let them handle this themselves.

* * *

          " John, take Sherlock to your place. I will get another cab and head home. No arguments now", and she slams the door of the cab.

* * *

In the cab there is total silence. 

* * *

On Sherlock's part, there is regret and confusion.

On Johns part, there is rage and surprise and all kinds of emotions he can't figure out right now.

* * *

At 221B Sherlock opens the door.

He knows Mrs. Hudson has kept the rooms available for some unfathomable reason.

She looks out of her door and screams and screams when she sees Sherlock.

He acknowledges her but John is pushing Sherlock up the steps, and once in the flat he slams the door shut.

          "You mother fucker, you bastard, you cock sucker, you, you."

* * *

Sherlock is backed up against the door, the spittle from Johns tirade hitting his shirt and face. John punches him in the face. Then grabs his coat and throws him down. The strength of John can be surprising. Especially when angry. He falls on top of Sherlock, and the steam goes out of him, his head falling on Sherlock's chest.

And he begins to cry, long sobs that take the wind out of him.

          "John, John lets get up off the floor and sit. I'll make some tea for us."

* * *

Both men stand, and Sherlock wipes the tears from Johns' face.

John takes off his jacket and walks to his chair. Still inhaling and exhaling long breaths.

Sherlock throws his coat and scarf on the floor and gets the teapot set up.

* * *

When the tea is made he brings it to the small table beside their chairs and sits down.

* * *

Both men pour their cups and begin to look straight at each other instead of the air.

* * *

          " I am truly sorry, John. I know I should have had Mycroft let you know I was alive. But every time I decided to let him tell you I moved and the urgency of the moment got in the way."

* * *

          "Don't think I can forgive you that easy. And the fact that so many people knew, but you couldn't trust me."

          "It wasn't a trust issue; I was afraid that you wouldn't show the proper emotion of dying if you knew I wasn't, and Moriarty..." and there he shuts up.

* * *

Deep silence reigns at 221B.

* * *

          "Joh-, Sherl-," both men start to talk at once.

          " You are going to marry Mary I take it."

          "Yes, Sherlock." 

* * *

At which point John gets up, placing his cup in the sink and without another word, leaves.

* * *

A file folder is open, and my laptop is on the sofa with me when I hear steps.

I know it's John's footsteps and can tell he is upset.

I push everything aside and sit still.

He stomps right up to me and towers over me, looking formidable.

* * *

          "Ok, you bastard, tell me why you decided to die, and in front of me?"

* * *

          "It wasn't meant to be that way. When I sent you off to Mrs. Hudson, I thought you would be gone much longer. And would not see me jump. Maybe see me lying there, but never the jump."

* * *

His hand goes out, and he slaps me across the face. The sting goes right to my heart. His fists cocked, his breathing elevated, his face scrunched up.

* * *

          "Oh, the great Sherlock Holmes didn't have this one timed to the second?"

He turns and stomps back down the steps.

My cheek burns but that's what I deserve. I let him down again.

* * *

I've just gotten out of the shower this morning and hear the steps reverberate with Johns intense footsteps.

* * *

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I step into the sitting room. John opens his mouth to speak, looks at me and stops.

Our breaths are coming strong and hard. His eyes rake my body which is still wet and dripping.

* * *

          "Fuck Sherlock, Fuck!"

With a few quick steps, he's at my side, his blue eyes wide open, staring at my mouth.

* * *

I'm unwilling to move, my feet stuck to the floor. Waiting.

* * *

And with the precision of a soldier, he turns and marches out of the flat.

Shivering, I stand still not sure, yes, very sure. I want John. Fucking want him.

* * *

A text from John the next day. 

          _I'm not coming over for awhile. Need time. JW_

          _All the time you want SH_

* * *

The next few weeks I keep close to the flat. Sometimes imagining Johns footsteps.

When they finally do materialize my heart races. The steps are slow and measured.

* * *

          "Sit down Sherlock, over in your chair." His voice is quiet, relaxed.

But my whole being vibrates with his every move.

We sit opposite each other in our usual chairs.

          "Sherlock, this is the last time I will speak of this. I feel abused and disrespected. You've been my best friend. You helped me when my life was at its lowest."

I lift my hand to speak.

          "No, let me finish. You gave me exactly what I needed. The excitement of the battlefield, the comradery, the fancy that I was needed. And in that one day, it was all taken from me."

* * *

At this point, I look at him and see tears in his now dark eyes.

          "My god Sherlock, you have no idea. But, now that you are back I am going to say something I've wanted to say for a long time."

Oh, god, what is it?  
With his eyes locked on mine, full of tears, shivering, "Sherlock Holmes, I love you."  
At this point, John is crying deep sobs.

I take him in my arms and pull his head down to caress him.

* * *

          "John Watson, I love you also."

His head pops up, and he looks incredulous.

          "Yes John, I've wanted to say that for ages."

* * *

Laughing and crying at the same time, "What fools we've been, my best friend, and now-?"

          "Your love if you will have me."

          "Yes, yes and yes."

* * *

All goes silent, expectant, on edge, our lips touch softly. Just a touch, a movement of breath, then a tongue goes out, licks expectant, mouths open, tongues out, exploring with tongues on lips, then in, pressing hard.

Our bodies move closer, trying to enter each other.  
Moaning, humming, groans following groans.

          "Fuck, fuck," from Johns' mouth as we tear off our clothes. The anticipation of what's to come driving us. And suddenly we are naked before each other, a bit embarrassed. Each is looking down at the others hard cock. Not sure what to do or how.

* * *

Desire takes over, and John pushes me hard on the couch. He falls on top of me. Our cocks line up, and the movement of our bodies sends waves of craving, hunger, passion, want, for each other.

Both of us are bucking hard, rotating our hips. Breaths, moans, sighs combine.

          "John, John"

          "Say it, Sherlock."

          "I, I want you."

And John sprays his feelings onto me. I immediately see the wave overtake me and join with my love.

* * *

John lies with his head on my chest.  


          " John, now what? What does this mean for us?"

John looks up, a silly lazy, grin on his face.  
I can't help but stupidly beam at him.

* * *

          "First and foremost, let's clean up. A cuppa will hit the spot too."

* * *

Reluctantly, we rise and manage to adjust ourselves accordingly.

          " I have a text from Mary. Wanting to know when I'll be home."

          "Go home. Go home and talk to her."

          " But Sherlock, what are we doing? We can't go back to being 'friends,' and here he air quotes. "

* * *

Without a minute's hesitation, I cross over to him, bring him into my arms.

"I want you here, want you with me always. Are you willing to put up with me?"

          "Oh, hell Sherlock of course."

* * *

Just at that moment, Mrs. Hudson walks in; we jump apart.

The smile on her face would light up all of London.

          "Oh, my boys, it's about time." 

And turns closes the door with a wink and leaves.

That brings us to hysterical laughter. Possibly nerves doing it also.

* * *

John lets Mary know he isn't marrying her.

Of course, not without some screaming and cursing at us.

We settle into 221B Baker Street. As a couple. As Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.


End file.
